


A Valentine's Proposal

by TajaReyul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character of Colour, Extremely Light Bondage, F/M, Food Sex, Light Sensory Deprivation, Rare Pairings, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:58:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TajaReyul/pseuds/TajaReyul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After dating for four years, Charlie decides he's ready to marry Lavender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Valentine's Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 HP_Porninthesun contest on LJ and the prompt, 'after dating for four years, Charlie decides he is finally ready to marry his restless girlfriend on Valentine's Day. He steals her away to their "special place", and treats her to a night of exquisite passion, culminating in the most important decision of their lives.'
> 
> Read the start of Charlie and Lavender's relationship: _Carpe Noctem (Seize the Night)_.

Lavender Brown yawned, stretched and blinked against the light sneaking through a tiny gap in the flap of her tent.

 _I could have sworn I closed that,_ she thought.

Before she could grab her dressing gown or even throw back the covers and roll out of bed, she heard a soft hooting call. She turned her head to see Charlie Weasley's Ural owl. That must have been how the tent flap got open. Yuri was very clever at figuring out how to get in to deliver messages.

“What have you got there, hmm?” She took a scrap of parchment from the owl. Yuri nibbled affectionately at her fingers.

 _Meet me where we had our first date. And wear this under your robes._ The owl had a small pouch tied to his leg. Lavender took it and reached inside. To her surprise, her hand went in past the wrist and she pulled out a purple cotton-and-lace cami set.

 _Well._ That explained why she'd been given the day off. Charlie wanted to play. That was fine with her, although she would have preferred a bit more of a lie-in. No matter, she could sleep later.

After giving Yuri an owl treat and taking a quick shower, Lavender put on the purple lingerie and covered it with one of her plain blue work robes. There was nothing to do with her hair. She kept it trimmed close to her scalp instead of treating it with straightening potions and spending upwards of thirty minutes styling it. Similarly, she didn't bother with the cosmetic charms with which she'd once been so proficient, as they now irritated her scar tissue. Heavy socks, work boots, a woolen cloak and gloves completed her ensemble.

She headed for the dining hall. Her first date with Charlie had been unusual, to say the least. They'd been out in the field for three days, tracking a Romanian Longhorn that was suspected of killing a Muggle couple that lived near the reserve. They'd found the dragon, and cleared it using a battery of forensic spells. Returning to the dining hall, they raided the icebox. Their midnight snack turned into a food fight, which led to other activities. From then on, they always sat at that same table for their meals because even though they'd cleaned up after themselves, Lavender wasn't about to let anyone else eat where she and Charlie had shagged.

There was a bottle of champagne with a big red bow tied around the neck sitting at 'their' table. Lavender picked it up and felt the unmistakable sideways tug behind her navel. The Portkey delivered her to a forest glade. At one end was a small waterfall that fell into a steaming pool. It was one of their favourite getaway spots in the warmer months. Charlie stood between the pool and a blanket spread on the ground. He was barefoot and shirtless, wearing only a pair of faded, cut-off jeans. She returned his playful grin.

“Whew, it wasn't this warm when I left my tent,” she said, setting down the bottle and doffing her cloak.

“Warming Charm,” he explained with a shrug.

She blinked once in surprise. “That's a cooking spell.”

“Did you think George was the only one in the family with an interest in experimental magic?”

“I suppose I never thought about it. You're going to have to teach me that spell later.”

“Much later,” he agreed. “Hungry?”

“You brought food?”

“I reckoned you hadn't eaten yet.”

“I hadn't, as a matter of fact. I suppose we should eat. I have a feeling I'll need to keep my strength up.”

Gesturing to the blanket he smirked at her. “Make yourself comfortable.”

She sent him a flirtatious look from under her lashes and slowly stripped off her gloves. Meeting his gaze directly, Lavender unbuttoned the top three buttons of her robe. Charlie's eyes followed her hands. She grinned and bent to unlace her boots, giving him a generous view of her cleavage. Of course, her cleavage wasn't as generous as it once was. Dragon Keeping was hard, physical work, but it provided her as much or more satisfaction than male admiration ever had. Well, almost as much, at any rate.

Stepping out of her boots and toeing off her socks, she swayed toward him, unbuttoning her robe as she went. He propped his fists on his hips and watched avidly as she gradually revealed the lingerie he'd sent.

“Purple is definitely your colour. The lace is soft enough?”

“If it wasn't, I wouldn't have worn it, but thank you for thinking of my comfort.” She dropped her robe behind her.

“I'm always thinking of your comfort, Lavender.”

“Mm-hm.” She reached out and brushed her fingertips over his chest. “So what did you bring for us to eat?”

“Grab the champagne and I'll show you.”

While Charlie opened the basket he'd brought, she picked up the bottle and seated herself on the blanket, careful to sit so the left, unscarred side of her head was towards him. He listed each item as he unpacked it: “Hard cooked plovers' eggs; frozen grapes and watermelon pieces; dark chocolate covered strawberries; sweet potato-tahini-avocado finger sandwiches; ginger-infused champagne; and individual mango trifle for dessert.”

It was Lavender turn to smirk. “And everything has aphrodisiac qualities.”

“Not all. Some of the food just has nutrients that support better sex, but basically, you've seen through my clever plan.”

“It all looks delicious.”

“You look delicious.”

“Perhaps we'll forego the trifle, then,” she said mischievously.

They ate with relish, though Charlie insisted on feeding bits of food to Lavender. She simply shook her head at his antics.

“Come on, love, close your eyes,” he urged.

“Charlie...”

“Don't you trust me by now?”

She closed her eyes reluctantly and felt something cold touch her lips. “Oh,” she gasped, pulling back. He held a grape in his fingers.

“Relax,” he murmured. “Close your eyes,” he repeated gently.

Lavender complied. Charlie traced her lips with the grape and then ran the frozen fruit slowly over her chin and down her neck. When the grape thawed enough to no longer be useful, he popped it in his mouth and got another. He ran the grape along her collarbone, over her shoulder and down her arm. She shivered and her nipples hardened.

“That feels great, but you're moving too slow.”

“Patience,” he counselled.

“No,” she interrupted. She grabbed his wrist and ate the grape out of his grasp. “Take your shorts off.” She stripped off her singlet while he obediently wriggled out of his only garment. “Lay down and close _your_ eyes.”

“That wasn't part of the plan,” he protested.

“'Plans change',” she quoted.

“I'm going to regret telling you that,” Charlie sighed, but he closed his eyes and lay back, lacing his fingers together behind his head.

“Let me see if I can make it up to you.” Humming tunelessly under her breath, she ran her fingers lightly over his forehead and cheekbones. She traced the curve of his smile, the bridge of his nose and tickled his lashes. Then she stroked down the column of his throat, gliding over his Adam’s apple and dipping into his jugular notch. He made a noise that was somewhat like a groan and somewhat like a purr.

Lavender chuckled and moved on. She varied her approach, brushing touches over his ribs, and then the inside of his thigh, just above the knee; the groove between his biceps and triceps; his inguinal crease; the bottoms of his feet. Running her fingertip up the underside of his erect penis, she gathered the bead of moisture glistening at the tip and licked it off her finger.

She straddled his hips and stretched to pin his forearms to the ground, letting the tips of her breasts graze his chest.

“Holding me down?” he teased. “I don't think you're that strong.”

“Just a reminder that I'm the one in charge,” she leaned down to murmur in his ear.

“Whatever you say, love.” His penis twitched against her.

“Hmm.” She ran her lips slowly over the planes of his face in a moth's-wing caress.

“Now who's moving too slow?”

“Am I boring you?”

“Never, but you are making me very,” he flexed his pelvic muscles, making his cock thump her sex, “anxious for more.”

“Oh very well,” she sighed and sealed her mouth to his. He squirmed, rubbing her breasts on his hair-roughened chest. Charlie brought his arms down, forcing her to bend her elbows or risk breaking the kiss. Lavender growled a warning.

“You're still in charge,” he said against her lush lips. “I just,” he stopped to return her kiss, “want to have my arms about you. Will you allow that?”

“For now. Don't get any ideas.”

“Too late. I've all sorts of ideas where you're concerned.”

“Then I must be doing something wrong if you can think at all.”

“I'm only thinking of you, does that help?” He rolled them over.

“Oi! You just said I was still in charge.”

“You are. Tell me no.” He dipped his head to kiss the right side of her neck. She didn't stop him, but she raised her chin and twisted her head around to present him the side of her neck without the scars instead. He kissed down to the join of her neck and shoulder and bit lightly.

“No!” she cried, pushing at his chest. “No biting, Charlie. You know that.”

“I was just trying something different. I'd never do anything to hurt you, Lavender.”

“There's more than one way to hurt someone,” she said, looking away.

“All right. I'm sorry.” He kissed gently along her collarbone to her shoulder.

She felt her expression gradually change from fear/anger/hurt back to comfort/contentment/bliss. He shifted so he could take most of her left breast into his mouth and she arched her back in response. Palming her other breast, he let his fingertips stroke one of the scars running down that side of her chest.

Lavender whimpered, half in protest, half in arousal. She really wanted to forget about her scars, to pretend, at least for a little bit, that they didn't exist and she was still as pretty as she had been when she was in school. Being with Charlie made that easy, most of the time. The fact remained, however, that unlike ordinary scars, the mementoes of Greyback's attack were more sensitive than the skin around them. As much as she wanted to deny they existed, Charlie's touch on them was exquisitely pleasurable.

She forgot all about her discomfort when Charlie snaked his other hand between them and inside her knickers. He released her breast with a pop and lifted his head to grin up at her. “Wet. Is that all for me?”

“Do you see anyone else here?”

“Minx.” He raised up on his knees and hastily stripped her knickers off, throwing them aside. Pushing her legs wide apart, he stared down at her dripping sex.

“You just going to look at it?”

He leered at her playfully, and then shifted his grip from the inside of her thighs to her bum. Lifting her hips, he bent and licked her like she was ice cream.

“Ohhh. I like that.”

“Mm-hmm.” He did the most amazing things with his tongue and lips. Lavender could never accurately describe his technique, only that what he did drove her to distraction. By the time he slid two fingers into her, she was on the verge of orgasm. All it took to send her over the edge was for him to crook his fingers a few times.

When she came back to herself, he was wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “All right, there?”

“More than,” she replied. “Your turn.”

“No, I think you've a few more in you.” He stroked her clit with a gentle fingertip, making her jump. “See?”

“Well, then, give me my trifle. If you're wanting a marathon, I need more calories. Besides, I'm always hungry after a really good orgasm.”

“'Really good', hmm?” He leaned over to grab her pudding and a spoon and hand them to her

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes as she sat up. “You know you're very skilled. You know how much I like it when you go down on me. Why are you fishing for compliments?”

“I want to make sure you enjoy yourself.” He said, a touch defensively as he retrieved his own trifle.

“If I wasn't enjoying myself, I wouldn't spend time with you.”

“Remember our first date?”

“Of course—oi!”

Charlie had taken a finger-ful of whipped cream and smeared it across Lavender's right breast.

“Oh, look at that. How clumsy of me. I suppose I'll just have to clean that up.” He leaned forward and licked the whipped cream off her chest. She gasped when his tongue ran across her scars. Applying more whipped cream and some custard, he licked one of the parallel scars from the bottom to the top. She writhed, caught between shame and pleasure and her own pudding fell, unheeded, from her lax grasp. Charlie stopped bothering with the trifle and just ran his tongue over and over her scars.

It was as if he was licking all her erogenous zones at once; like she hadn't just come five minutes ago. She fell to her back and by the time he moved to kiss and lick the scars on her neck, she had no will left to deny him. He whispered things sweet and filthy in her mangled ear, punctuating each phrase with a flick of his tongue Lavender felt like her whole body was climaxing, on and on without peaking and fading.

When he thrust slowly into her, she shattered into a thousand glittering shards of delight. He fucked her through her orgasm, each stroke drawing out her pleasure until she felt boneless. Charlie leaned forward and slid his arms under her body, gathering her close. “Come on, love,” he said, sitting up, “change of venue.”

Lavender wrapped her arms and legs about him and held on tight as he stood and walked them over and into the pool. Long ago, some enterprising Dragon Keeper had set flat rocks to form steps. Mindful of his footing, Charlie carried her until they were waist deep and sat on one of the steps. She unwrapped her legs from his waist and settled her knees on either side of his hips. Between the hot spring that fed the pool from below and the icy mountain stream that fell into it, the water that now covered them to mid-chest was comfortably warm. 

He kissed her deeply, taking the time to explore the cavern of her mouth. When he finally allowed her to break the kiss, Lavender's head was spinning. “Wow.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

She smiled playfully and tightened her internal muscles. His eyes rolled back in his head and she smirked in satisfaction. “I know what you like too,” she murmured as she squeezed him again.

“I do like that, but you're moving too slowly again.”

“I can't move too fast or this is going to get very uncomfortable for both of us,” she warned.

“I think you'll,” he grunted as she clamped down on his cock again, “be all right if you just don't move very far.”

“Like this?” Lavender lifted off him about an inch or two and then rocked her hips back and forth in quick, but small motions.

“That—mm--that will do nicely. Does it work for you?”

“You may need to get your fingers in the mix,” she gasped out.

He reached between them once more and pinched her clit lightly between his finger and thumb. “Like that?”

“Mm, oh yes,” she hissed.

He kept his fingers steady while her hip motions provided the rhythmic pressure necessary to bring her passion back up to match his. “Come for me, baby,” he urged. “Just one more time. I know you can do it.” He sneaked his other hand up to stroke the ruined shell of her ear and trace the bite marks on her face and neck. Lavender suddenly came undone, crying out in surprise. Charlie stilled her hips, lifting her slightly so he could slam into her three, four times and then he followed her over the precipice. 

They sat there, panting and shaking for a minute or two before disentangling themselves and stumbling over to flop on the blanket. Lavender stretched like a contented cat. “You really outdid yourself this time, Charlie.”

“I wanted to do something special for Valentine's Day.”

She startled. “Oh. I suppose it is Valentine's Day. No matter. This was fun anyway.”

“How could you forget Valentine's Day?” he asked, incredulous.

“It's just another day for me. Don't tell me that you buy in to all that romantic shite.”

“We've been together four years. Every year, I've done something to mark the day. Are you telling me now that you never noticed?”

“I noticed, but I never associated your actions with the holiday until someone else pointed it out to me afterwards.” She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the weak winter sunshine. The Warming Charms Charlie had cast made it seem like summer.

“Don't fall asleep. You don't want to miss the best part.”

Lavender heard a rustling noise as Charlie retrieved something from his pocket. “What's that?” She opened her eyes to see him holding out a velvet box containing a ruby and diamond ring.

“Lavender Brown, will you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife?”

She scrambled back from the velvet box in his hand as if it were a snake. “You can't ask me to marry you, “ she blurted.

“I think I just did. Come on, love, four years is a long time. Didn't you see we were headed for this?”

She shook her head slowly.

“I love you. Don't you want to get married?”

She found the vest top of the cami set he'd bought her and pulled it on. “What I do or don't want doesn't matter. I can't get married. Where are my knickers?”

“They're,” he looked around, “over there, on that scrubby little tree, but I think I tore them taking them off you.” Reluctantly, he closed the ring box and pulled on his denim shorts.

She slipped her robe on and fetched her ruined knickers, stuffing them in her pocket.

“Lav,” he tried again, “I thought you were expecting this.”

“You thought I was...” she trailed off, looking up from pulling her socks on. “How could I possibly know you were going to ask me such a daft thing?” She crammed her boots back on her feet.

“What's daft about wanting to marry you?

“I told you, I can't get married. Is that everything?”

“Don't worry about the food. Why can't you get married? Do you already have a husband tucked away somewhere? Secret wedding during the war?”

“No,” she snapped. “Of course not.”

“Then why?”

“How can you look at me and ask that?” She waved a hand to indicate the scarred right side of her head.

“What does that have to do with getting married?”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you taking the piss?”

“No. I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Clearly.” She took a deep breath and exhaled it in a heavy sigh. “Here, you can wear my cloak. I'll try to explain, but not here.”

“My cottage?”

“Yeah, that's as good a place as any.” She spun in place and Disapparated with a pop. Charlie followed.

* * *

When they arrived back at his cottage, Lavender opened the door and walked right in as if she lived there. If a person went by how many times she spent the night, she might as well have, but she didn't keep so much as a toothbrush there. Charlie always reckoned that was an artefact from the way her pureblood mother raised her, but the events of the day had him wondering otherwise. She dropped gracelessly onto his undersized couch and buried her face in her hands.

“So, explain,” he said shortly, taking a seat next to her.

Lavender sighed heavily and folded her hands together. “At the battle...I didn't know what hit me at first. I didn't see Greyback coming. He just pounced. The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back. I couldn't breathe because, well, he'd knocked the breath right out of me. Plus, he was kneeling on my stomach.”

“Lavender, you don't have to relive all that.”

“I do. You need to understand. I was numb when he first bit me, from getting knocked down and the sheer unbelievability of it all. Who expects someone to bite your face? But he did, sliced me open from here,” she pointed to the corner of her eye where a particularly white scar began, “all the way down to here, “ she moved her finger to the bottom end of the scar, just below her chin. “Then he started licking me, lapping up my blood.” She closed her eyes and shuddered, recalling that long-ago trauma.

Charlie put his hand on her arm, offering comfort. She smiled weakly in acknowledgement but moved her arm away.

“I felt the second bite, and the third, when he chewed half my ear off. I felt it when he clawed my robe open. I reckoned I was dead then, and I was glad of it. Then Parvati, that useless twat, and Loony Lovegood, of all people, got him off me, stunned him. I woke up in St. Mungo's a week later.”

“I know all that, love,” he said gently. “It's in your file.”

“Does my file say the first thing I did as soon as I was strong enough was to try to kill myself? Or that it wasn't the last time? I earned my bed on the locked ward for the next year. Gradually, I came around to the idea that I survived for a reason, but in order to get to that place, I had to leave certain things behind. Things like the notion that I'd find a man who could love me and that I'd ever get married and have children.”

“I knew about your suicide attempts. As Assistant Director, it's my job to know things like that. I can't have a Dragon Keeper who's only here because they're hoping to get eaten.” He took her hands in his. “Lavender, _I_ love you. _I_ want to marry you and I'd be proper chuffed, over the moon, in fact, to have children with you.”

“You don't have to lie to me. I haven't ever turned you away from my bed or refused an invitation to yours.”

“I'm not just in this relationship for the sex,” he protested. “Not that it isn't wonderful and I wouldn't miss it dreadfully if we broke up, but you're far more than a warm and willing body to me. Why do you think I'm lying?”

She shrugged. “I know what I look like now. My own mother can't look at me without crying. The first time my five-year-old cousin saw my face, he screamed.”

“I can't imagine what that must have been like.”

“It was pretty horrible, but it taught me that I can't be loved, not any more. I applied to work here because scars are just part of the job. The dragons didn't care what I look like and I had you to keep me warm at night. I always thought of you as a free spirit, not at all the type to want to settle down, but also not the type to turn down a free shag. Do you understand now?”

“What I understand now is that not wanting to die isn't the same as wanting to live.”

“No, it isn't,” she agreed sadly.

That night, after she had gone back to her tent, Charlie sent an owl to Bill, asking for advice. He hoped his older brother, having also been attacked by Greyback, might have some idea how to get through to Lavender. The reply came four days later.

 _I don't know that I have anything useful to tell you,_ Bill had written. _I know the dark places Lavender's been, but I had the family's support and I was already sure of Fleur's love before I was attacked. Maybe Ron and Hermione can shed some light. They knew Lavender better than I did._

Two owls arrived the day after. Hermione's carried a roll of parchment explaining the problems women had with body image and cultural notions of beauty and describing what Lavender had been like before the attack.

Pigwidgeon carried two things: a gaudy gold chain with a charm that read 'My Sweetheart' dangling from it and a short note that said, _Wear this, in public, in front of her._

When Charlie walked in to the dining hall for breakfast, the room gradually fell silent. He strode confidently across the room to where Lavender sat at the table where they'd first shagged. Taking the seat across from her, he waited until she looked up. Her eyes widened.

“Where did you get that?”

“Where do you think?”

“I can't believe Ron held on to that and I can't believe I had the bad taste to buy it in the first place. Why are you wearing it?”

“I'm hurt, Lavender. Am I not your sweetheart?”

She sighed. “Seriously, Charlie, why are you wearing that?”

“You won't wear the ring I bought you. I want everyone to know I'm off the market.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Don't say that,” she choked out. “You deserve someone beautiful, someone who isn't a scarred mess, someone whole.”

“You're beautiful. You _are_ ,” he insisted. “Your scars are part of your beauty. They're proof of your strength and courage. Who you are didn't reside in the part of your ear that's missing and you haven't, and don't, need your ear to do your job, or anything else that makes you happy. Does spending time with me make you happy?”

“It does, but--”

“No buts. Spending time with you makes me very happy. I want everyone else to know it, too. If you won't consent to marry me, I guess I'll just have to wear this terribly ugly necklace for the rest of my life.”

“I don't think I'm brave enough to be seen in public with you if you do that.”

“I hope that means you'll wear this lovely ring,” he pulled the diamond-and-ruby ring out of his pocket and extended it to her, “and not that you're bin-bagging me.”

“Rubies and gold. Gryffindor colours.” She held out her right hand and he dropped the ring into her palm. Lavender inspected it a minute before sliding it on the third finger of her left hand. Holding up her hand to see how the ring looked against the brown of her skin, she said, “All right, I'll agree to be engaged to you.”

“Just engaged?”

“One step at a time, Weasley.”


End file.
